Deep in the Ankorillian jungles grows the Corpse Flower. A dreaded plant that can entangle and poison you silently.
Hours later your companions notice your absence,
turn and search for you.
As they backtrack they unknowingly pass your last resting place.
A rather smelly, orange plant.

They march, march forever. Eerie chanting fill the air. Death Cometh.

An article for GM's and players alike upon the matter of the family and friends of the players.

The adventurers are approached in some public yet semi-private place by a lean dwarf, wearing a colorful cape with black feathers rim wrapped tightly around him. What will come of this?

A Vampire hunter.

Come hither peasant!